*** This is Part 9 of the saga I started writing a while ago about my affair with Keith, which I started here: https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/u33z2w/f_i_f45_had_a_secret_affair_for_8_months_it/ . I didn’t think there’d be more to tell, but then…
As my dwindling number of loyal readers noticed, my story started stalling when I was done telling you about my affair with Keith. People wanted to hear more about that situation, not really about my other lovers and so on. Fair enough. But to be honest I couldn’t really think of anything more to say about Keith. Not that I told you everything. I wrote about the moments that stood out, but so much of the time we were together kind of blended into a general (but delightful) “8 months of amazing illicit sex.” So I figured my days writing about my sex life were over and I thought about trying my hand at fiction. I’m working on that, but I actually find it harder to write well about sex when I’m not kept honest by the facts.
Anyway, last week I was at home alone for three days. I didn’t feel like doing anything, and I ended up getting a bit high and trying to find someone to chat with on reddit. I got many bites but the only promising lead fizzled quickly. I don’t know if I’m cut out for it. Anyway, I gave up and I tried writing some fictional erotica, to no avail. I had some wine. Around 12am on Wednesday morning I started reading old dirty emails that Keith and I shared back during our affair. By 1am I had done something I meant never to do. I fired off an email to him, it was the first time I’d made any attempt to communicate since the summer of 2017.
I stayed online hoping for a response for a while longer but eventually I had to sleep. When I woke up I could see more clearly and I felt stupid. What had I done? I checked my email, simultaneously dreading and hoping for a message from Keith. Nothing. I went about my day but kept checking my messages. Nothing, nothing, nothing. By the time my husband and kids were due home, still nothing. Oh well.
Just my luck, a message from Keith appeared in my inbox just as the car pulled into the driveway. My heart pounding in my ears, I shut my laptop and headed downstairs to greet my family. What had he written?
I wouldn’t find out until the next morning. We went out for dinner, then I watched a movie with the kids, my mind madly rolling through what Keith might have said the whole time. After putting the little ones to bed, I joined Scott in our bedroom and we had frantic reunion sex. I won’t say my thoughts about that little email didn’t contribute to the energy I put into our lovemaking.
The next day, I finally had a chance to read the message that had kept me awake most of the night, wondering. It was a pretty generic, hey how you doing kind of email, nothing personal, nothing to acknowledge the fact that we’d been together, nothing about me writing out of the blue so many years later. I felt crushed, even though I had no reason to feel that way. And no right. But I can’t help the way I feel. I wanted something else, I realized. I wanted Keith to be excited to hear from me. Even though I was sure I would say no, I want him to ask to meet up. But there was nothing like that.
He did end the message with “what’s new with you?” So I felt justified sending a response. Nothing much was new. What about him? This time he wrote back within minutes, which made me think my message had affected him more than his first message had let on. So it turned out Keith had gotten married and was now the father to twin boys, two years old. In my head I let the thought form: knowing him, and knowing toddlers, he’s probably feeling desperate for freedom and fun. In my response, after my congratulations and jokes about lack of sleep, I carefully crafted a casual-sounding hint about possibly meeting up sometime. If he was as dumb as he’d always been, he would probably miss the hint. But maybe not.
By the time I convinced myself to press “Send” I had made peace with my desire to sleep with Keith again.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wfnp35/f_i_f46_had_a_secret_affair_for_8_months_it
I thoroughly enjoyed your story (let’s call it “Vol. 1) and read every word voraciously. I also identified with it on a personal level, as I had a similar (as in nearly identical) long term tryst with my own paramour many years ago.
Not to extensively delve into my own experience, but like you, my affair made my “not-so-bad-at-the-time” marriage stronger both during, and certainly after, the affair concluded. We enjoy that same level of strength to this day.
I never got caught, nor was I ever suspected of straying. I recognize how lucky I was/am to have had my affair very organically come to and end, and made a clean break with no strings or hard feelings.
Luck. Pure dumb luck.
So, the juxtaposition here is that while I would certainly immensely enjoy Vol. 2 of the Keith saga, an interesting thing happened while reading Vol. 1… I became invested in the protagonist as a person. I like her, and we share a bond of common feelings of a “more common than we probably think” experience.
Therefore, I’m writing hopeful that Vol. 2 is only conceptual at this point, and that this new story hasn’t been lived to tell.
My two cents.